


The Last Light in the Galaxy

by rubyblue13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Emperor Vader, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Padmé Amidala Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-13 00:04:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyblue13/pseuds/rubyblue13
Summary: Anakin defeats Obi-Wan on Mustafar and takes Padmé to Coruscant, where she gives birth to the twins. With the help of the Emperor, he is able to keep her from dying. Despite his wife's protests, the newly named Darth Vader continues to support the Empire. But as Vader's dark powers grow and Padmé becomes more and more outspoken about her disdain for the Empire, things become complicated.This is a dark Padmé x Vader fanfiction. There won't be abuse, but the relationship isn't healthy, either.





	1. Padmé's Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a side story to my main one. I just got muse for it and started writing so here we are.

**_i. padmé's destiny_ **

 

It was Anakin, or rather, Darth Vader, who carried her onto her ship. The moment she opened her eyes and saw him, she knew that Obi-Wan must be dead.

But her consciousness faded quickly; the moment was gone almost as soon as it came.

While Padmé was out cold, she was flown back to Coruscant, where she was then taken to a hospital. When she came to, she saw Vader and Palpatine—the Emperor—standing at her beside.

She began to panic, her emotions surging in turmoil. Padmé found herself unable to handle Mustafar, the Emperor, and the birth of her child all at once.

Her breathing slowly accelerated as her mind processed everything, her memories repeating like an infinite roll of film. A dark force closing around her throat, her plea to her husband, Palpatine’s announcement of the Galactic Empire in the Senate, Obi-Wan exposing what Anakin had done at the Jedi Temple.

_“I saw a security hologram of him… killing younglings.”_

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

Vader’s eyes met hers as she spoke, but she avoided the burning yellow stare of the Emperor. “Padmé, it’s alright, you’re just going into—”

Hot tears leaked from her eyes as she shook her head still; she didn’t want to be here, didn’t want any of this. She didn’t want to live in the Galactic Empire—everything she loved, democracy, peace, Anakin, had been ripped away from her.

“I don’t want him here!” she nearly choked on her words, but they rang clear. “Get him out! Make him _leave!”_

Vader turned his head to the Emperor, who gave a slight nod. He then turned and exited the room, leaving Padmé with only Vader, the doctor, and the medical droids.

It was almost physically painful to see her husband here, knowing that everything Obi-Wan had said about him was true. _This_ was the father of her child—not a kind Jedi, not a hero of the Republic, but a dark Lord of the Sith.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want _any_ of this.

But she did not have a choice.

 

—✥—

 

Padmé blinked as she looked Death in the eye.

Despite the birth of Luke and Leia, she was devoid of hope. The last light in the galaxy had been snuffed out and she was left in darkness—darkness that _Vader_ had brought. She couldn’t live in a galaxy governed by the iron fist of an empire, a rule that her _husband_ enforced. She _wouldn’t,_ she decided.

Padmé was hanging on by a thread.

And so she began to cut it. She used the last bit of her strength to fray her thinning connection to this earth, picking apart piece by piece. Padmé began to fade; her breathing began to slow and she tilted her head to the side to lay it to rest.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to _let go._

But Vader had other plans.

Unbeknownst to Padmé, the Emperor had returned to the hospital room. He moved as quietly as a shadow and Padmé’s eyes were fluttering shut as death began to pull her away.

“She’s dying,” Padmé could hear Vader’s panicked voice over the crying of her children. “Master, help me. You said I could keep her from death.”

“Do not worry, my apprentice,” came the low drawl of the Emperor. “Your powers have grown enough to do what must be done. I will guide you.”

Padmé’s consciousness was ebbing, her mind slowly giving way to the endless blackness of death. She only heard pieces of what Vader and the Emperor were saying. But there was one clear sentence among the jumble of noises: “The midichlorians are dying. Make them grow— _force them_ to stay.”

Her protest to this was to just let herself be carried away. Vader wouldn’t make it in time.

“I can’t do it alone— _help me_ or this was all for nothing.”

As she felt herself severing her connection to the Force, to the coil that bound her here, something was tugging at her soul, slowly tying it back to her body, sewing it in place stitch by stitch. Her consciousness became clearer and clearer, her heartbeat growing stronger and stronger. She could now hear the roar of blood in her ears again.

Her soul was fastened back onto her body. It would not budge—she was stuck here, forced to suffer the reign of the Empire rather than find freedom in death.

Padmé still felt weak, but that may have just been because her heart was crushed. But she was just barely  strong enough to open her eyes and sit up in bed. She was strong enough to muster her anger and glare at the Emperor.

“No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She looked at Vader, whose satisfaction was quickly fading, her eyes full of bewilderment. What had he and his master done to her? Why was she still breathing? Why was she alive?

Padmé was trying to die—she _wanted_ to die. But Vader took that choice away from her, just as he took the Republic from her.

“What did you do?” her voice was still soft, but there was an underlying accusatory tone.

“With the help of my new master, I saved you,” Vader replied, seemingly very confused at Padmé’s despairing expression.

She began to shake her head, her eyes darting between Vader and the Emperor. “Why?” she said, even though she knew the answer. “Why would you do that? _I wanted to die!_ Anakin, I—you should have let me!”

Padmé didn’t think it was possible to acquire such a dark, unnatural power. But if she had known that it was possible, she wouldn’t have doubted for a moment that Vader would keep her alive.

“I would _never_ allow you to die,” said Vader, his tone defensive. “I told you that I would save you from death and I did.”

Tears burst from her eyes as her tumult only intensified, her frustration clear in her eyes and furrowed brows. “It shouldn’t be your decision!” she argued.

As all of this was unfolding, beneath the darkness of his hood, the Emperor was grinning.

But Padmé and Vader were only focused on each other, not the Sith Lord.

“Why would you want to die? Padmé, we have children. We have a chance at a life we never could have had with the Republic!”

“You don’t understand,” she snapped. Her face was now glistening with tears, but she didn’t care to wipe them away. “I could never love the Empire! I don’t want to live in a galaxy where—”

She glowered at the Emperor as he interjected. “Lord Vader,” he said to Anakin, “Let her be for now. She has been through quite the ordeal.”

 _Is that his new name? Vader?_ she wondered. But Padmé knew she wouldn’t call him that; she refused to accept that her beloved was now a Sith.

The Emperor met her gaze with a cold yellow stare and she looked away, averting her eyes back to Vader. Despite everything he had done, he was more comfortable to look at than the Emperor. He didn’t have those horrible Sith eyes, menacingly bright and unnaturally colored a liquid topaz.

Vader stared at Padmé for a moment, who looked back at him with defiance. “Fine. I’ll leave you here to recover, for now.”

For now—eventually, Padmé would have to face the fact that she would have to live one of the worst periods of galactic history. Vader wouldn’t let her die and she knew that running would be pointless, for she was certain that he would find her and bring her back.

There would be no escape. That sank in like a cold brick in her stomach as her husband exited the room with the Emperor, leaving her alone.

 

—✥—

 

Days had passed after the birth of the twins and it was not long before the doctor came to release her.

“My lady,” said the doctor, her voice gentle. “Lord Vader has requested that you return to your senatorial apartment.”

“Do you know where my children are?” asked Padmé. She hadn’t seen them since their birth; she hadn’t even held them yet.

“They are with their father, my lady,” replied the doctor.

Padmé nodded. Their father—her husband, a Lord of the Sith. No longer Anakin, but rather Darth Vader. But she still couldn’t quite see him as what he was and she certainly would not call him by his Sith name.

With the request for Padmé’s release, Vader had also sent her clothing from her apartment. It was a simple floor-length dress but sleek in design. It wasn’t delicate and lace like her wedding dress, but rather was made of satin. It came with a thick gold belt, which fastened around her waist.

She dressed herself and did her hair so that they were in two buns on the sides of her head. Padmé looked into the bathroom mirror; she looked like herself and yet at the same time, she didn’t. The woman in her reflection was different—she had a hollow heart and a heavy soul.

On the outside, it seemed as if nothing had changed. She appeared as she always did, with her elegant clothing paired with her elegant hairstyle. She had covered the dark circles under her eyes with cosmetics; she knew that she would face the public today. Padmé wondered if they knew that she was married to the Emperor’s enforcer, the once beloved hero of the Republic.

Eventually, they would find out. She just didn’t know if she would be ready when they did.

When Padmé left the hospital, she was taken to her apartment by a speeder, only the driver was clearly Imperial and there were two clone troopers on each side. She didn’t want to go with them, for she suspected that Vader would be waiting for her at her apartment.

She was not ready to face him. But it was inevitable anyway; he was still her husband and the father of her children. Just because he was Darth Vader now didn’t mean that any of that had changed.

And she still loved him—she just didn’t know how they could have a relationship anymore. Although he had saved her from death, he had also hurt her on Mustafar. He hadn’t even _listened_ to her when she denied his accusation that she had brought Obi-Wan there to kill him.

Anakin had become so mad with rage that he quickly jumped to the conclusion that Padmé had betrayed him.

Padmé arrived to her apartment to see that she was right: Vader was waiting for her. His back was turned and he had traded in his Jedi robes for Sith attire—tailored black clothing with a long cape to match—but she could still recognize him by the back of his head.

She stepped onto the veranda and he turned to face her, his movements swift and silent. Her heart stopped as his eyes met hers. Despite everything that had happened, he was still her Anakin.

“Where are Luke and Leia?” she asked before he could get a word out.

“Here,” he told her. “They’re in the guest room. But before you go to see them…”

She looked at him with curiosity but then she realized: he wanted to talk with her before seeing the children.

Her anger revealed itself more quickly than she intended. “What? Are we going to discuss how you killed Obi-Wan and turned on me?”

For only a moment, his composure wavers. “I did _not_ turn on you,” he replied, more calmly than Padmé would have thought. “You brought Obi-Wan to Mustafar. His fate was sealed.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t,” she retorted. “He stowed away on my ship. I went to see you alone. I was _worried_ about you—I didn’t want you _dead!”_

Vader stared at the skyline rather than meeting Padmé’s sharp gaze, but he eventually did. “Padmé, I’m sorry. I should have listened to you, I—I was so blinded by the rage of seeing Obi-Wan there.” He exhaled deeply. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I almost killed you, and you have every right to be angry. But it will _never_ happen again.”

Padmé shook her head. She wasn’t exactly rejecting his apology; she did appreciate his attempt at reconciliation, but there was something else on her mind. “You didn’t almost kill me,” she told him.

“What?”

“I… it’s hard to explain. I had let go of my will to live—I was severing my connection to… the Force,” Padmé said. She hadn’t exactly realized in the moment, but that was what she had tried to do before Vader stopped her.

“I knew you… wanted to, but I didn’t think…” Vader shook his head.

“Almost everything I love is gone,” Padmé explained further. “The Republic, you…”

“I’m not gone.”

“In a sense, you are,” she replied. “Anakin, you… _hurt_ me. The fact that you would do that indicates that the man I married isn’t completely there anymore.”

“I made a horrible mistake,” Vader said. “I love you. That is something that will never change.” And though she knew that he was now a murderer and a much colder man than before, his words softened her heart. He seemed to truly feel remorseful about what he had done—at least there was that. She doubted that any other Sith felt guilt at all, from what she knew of them.

Padmé did believe that there was good in Vader—the Emperor hadn’t taken him from her fully. Perhaps… perhaps this was all somewhat reversable.

Now that she was here, she couldn’t turn her back on Vader, her children, or the galaxy. Padmé now saw that there would be no point in dying—Luke and Leia needed her, and so did Vader. It wouldn’t be easy and it wouldn’t be the life she wanted, but the possibility of a better future gave her a glimmer of hope.

Besides, she was sure that even if she tried to die, Vader would just pull her back from the abyss again.

“I love you, too,” she told him. That would never change for her either—she suspected that no matter what he did, she wouldn’t be able to let go of her feelings. Her love for Anakin was already deeply rooted in her heart; it could not be easily cast out.

“You could still take the offer I gave you on Mustafar,” Padmé continued. She knew it was a longshot but she tried anyway. “It isn’t too late.”

Vader had a very different vision of the future than Padmé, though she didn’t realize that yet. He wanted the throne. He had gotten a taste of the seemingly infinite power of the dark side and now he wanted more, until he was the most powerful Force-user to ever live. Vader wanted the entire galaxy to be his and he wanted Padmé to rule at his side.

But her mind was as far away from that as possible. When she looked at the future, she saw the beautiful horizon of Naboo and the glimmering lake. Padmé wanted to live in peace with Anakin and their children, with no power struggles or corruption.

“It is too late, Padmé,” Vader said. She was disappointed even though she knew that his answer would be no. “I can’t just stop being the Emperor’s apprentice.”

 _And you don’t want to stop,_ she thought to herself. He was choosing power over her, though he did not fully realize it.

“Does the public know that we’re married?” Padmé asked, changing the subject. They would go in circles if they continued like this and she didn’t have the energy for that.

“No,” replied Vader. “Why?”

“I was just curious,” she said. “They will eventually find out, I assume.” He would be in the spotlight even more than he was before and very few things stayed a secret on Coruscant.

But she also knew that the public opinion of her may change, depending on how many people supported the Empire. She doubted that most of her current supporters did, but she may gain a new following after the news was released.

Vader nodded in response. “Eventually.”

He paused for a moment until he looked at the clock on Padmé’s wall. “I should go,” he said. “I have matters to attend to.”

And with that, he left her there with her children. She wanted to ask him where he was going, but then she thought better of it. Padmé doubted that she _really_ wanted to know.


	2. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padmé agitates the Emperor. Vader warns her not to go too far with this or she will face the wrath of his master.

**_ii. vengeance_ **

 

Padmé hadn’t spoken to Vader in person since he came to her apartment—she wasn’t even sure if he was still on Coruscant, as it had been days now.

Her heart still felt as if it was made of stone, heavy in her chest. But Padmé carried on regardless; despite her desolation, there were still points of light in the darkness to reach for. Her children were one of them; she was with them every day, even as she continued her senatorial duties. Luke was very quiet, but Leia was loud—she cried during the night, was far more outspoken, one could say, than her brother.

At least she could find happiness at home, for she was absolutely miserable in the Senate building. There had been frequent Senate gatherings since there was much to be done in the new empire. Padmé merely observed most of it, maintaining a mask of composure. She was disgusted by the surprising amount of the support the Empire received from the other senators, though Padmé knew she wasn’t alone in abhorrence for it.

During one of the debates, the Emperor mentioned the Jedi’s betrayal and the ongoing Jedi Purge—that was when Padmé had enough.

“The Jedi Purge is currently being headed by Lord Vader,” said the Emperor. Although he was far away from her, when his eyes moved to her direction, she knew that his gaze was resting on her.

Anger flared within her—he was mocking her. She tried to just hold it in, grin and bear it, but her emotions were already swirling like a storm. Padmé was _not_ in the state for the Emperor to make a jab at her.

“Chancellor,” Padmé said into her microphone. “Or, my apologies, _Emperor_ Palpatine.” Her voice was sharp, her face hard with contempt. “Can you reiterate why exactly the Jedi, the protectors of the Republic for thousands of years, betrayed us? And why we are killing them rather than allowing any of them to stand trial?”

His glare was unmistakably full of hatred, but the Emperor seemed completely calm as he replied with, “Of course, Senator Amidala.”

Her anger simmered as he explained how the Jedi had become power hungry and wanted to take over the Republic; once they were given political influence, they wanted to control the entire galaxy. Padmé knew that it was all a ridiculous lie, but she wouldn’t directly call out the Emperor like that, not publicly.

Vader said that he would not let her die. She assumed that she was safer than most from Palpatine. But still, openly committing treason was far more extreme than making a snide remark.

“But not to worry—the remaining Jedi will soon be put down by Lord Vader,” the Emperor mentioned her husband again, another clear, pointed jab at her.

Padmé drew in a deep breath, careful not express her true feelings too blatantly. The Emperor likely knew that she hated him, despite their past friendship. He was the one to blame for all of this; though Vader played a large part, it was all ultimately orchestrated by the Emperor. It was he, after all, who turned Anakin in the first place.

When the meeting ended, Padmé quickly exited and walked down the hallway, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t believe Palpatine’s audacity—so that was the matter that Vader was attending to. The Jedi Purge, killing his former friends and allies.

She was looking down at the ground as she stormed down the corridor, until she saw a pair of black boots in front of her. Padmé stopped and looked up to see Vader standing in her path. She still wasn’t used to his new clothing. It had been dark-colored as a Jedi, but everything he wore now was black, a sign of him embracing the Sith ways.

Padmé met his eyes and instantly regretted it. They were Anakin’s eyes, soft and sky blue—she couldn’t help but wonder when they would change to Sith yellow. Although her husband now called himself Vader, all she saw was Anakin when she looked at him. _Her_ Anakin, the Jedi hero.

“Anakin,” she said evenly.

“I would prefer if you didn’t use that name,” he told her.

Padmé’s brow furrowed in dismay. “Well, I won’t call you _Lord_ Vader.”

“Just Vader is fine.” He paused, then continued, “Walk with me, Padmé.”

She only nodded and didn’t ask why; she knew that he wanted to lead her somewhere private so they could talk—but about what? If he had been in the Senate building this whole time, had he witnessed Padmé’s outburst at the Emperor?

They walked together in tense silence for some time before reaching a balcony that looked over the bottom floor of the building, which was bustling with politicians. Vader and Padmé stood beneath a shadow of one of the marble pillars, where there were no prying ears.

“What was that?” he asked her. “In the meeting.”

So it _was_ about what Padmé had said to the Emperor. She hadn’t thought that Vader was watching; she didn’t even know for sure if he was on Coruscant. Padmé sighed and looked up at him to see that he was more worried than irritated, though there was certainly a mixture of both on his features.

“It’s not like I committed treason,” she said.

“No, but you shouldn’t get sharp with the Emperor,” Vader warned her.

“What, or he’ll kill me?”

“I wouldn’t allow that to happen.”

“Then why does it matter?”

“Do you not want to keep your position in the Senate?” asked Vader, his voice slightly harsher now. “I can keep you from being harmed or killed, but the Emperor does have the power to expel you from the Senate. You would lose your political influence.”

She had a feeling that while Vader was concerned about her, he was also worried about himself. After all, the Emperor could easily direct his anger at his apprentice if he could not hurt her. And of course, there was the fact that once it was revealed that she was married to Darth Vader, any outbursts of public defiance would reflect badly on the image of the Empire.

“I’ll _never_ worship the Emperor,” was all Padmé said in response.

“Just don’t voice that opinion publicly.”

“And I will _always_ hate the Empire,” she continued, as if Vader had never spoken.

He paused for a moment. “In time, you will see that the Empire is right for the galaxy.”

Padmé’s heart twisted with frustration. “No, I won’t. You’re delusional if you think that.”

But Vader _was_ delusional, she already knew that. He had been so easily corrupted by the Emperor, made to believe that the Jedi were evil. He even thought that she would betray him; no matter how insane he became, Padmé would never try to have him killed. She still couldn’t believe that he accused her of such a thing in Mustafar.

“Nothing can ever justify _murdering_ the protectors of the galaxy,” Padmé went on. Her mind was set on Obi-Wan when she said that. She wondered how he died—had Vader burned him alive in the lava of Mustafar? Or had he made it quick and painless? She could only hope for the latter.

Vader drew in a deep breath, probably trying to calm his anger. “See, these are the opinions that are dangerous. I can’t stop you from having them, but just keep them _out_ of politics.”

“And if I don’t, what would the Emperor have you do? _Make_ me stop? Silence me like you’re doing to the Jedi?”

Although Vader already said that he wouldn’t allow this to happen, that didn’t stop her from making the remark. She wanted to him to see how ridiculous this was—he had no problem killing his friends, _children,_ or anyone else who posed a threat to the Empire. But he would keep her alive and safe, or so he claimed, even if she defied the Empire’s rule.

She knew that she was starting to push it too far, but Padmé couldn’t help but release her frustration. Padmé was still hurt over Mustafar and infuriated at everything that had been done to the galaxy. She would let her anger be known—she would not shut up and let all of this happen. Not without a fight.

 _“No,”_ Vader nearly snapped in return. She saw the hurt in his eyes and suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone that far.

“I don’t seek to control you, Padmé, and I’m not here to threaten you. I’m trying to _help_ you,” he said. She was silent as he spoke, but she kept her features hard with defiance. “Cause an uproar in the Senate— _fine._ As long as you’re prepared for the consequences. And _I’m_ not the one who would be punishing you.”

“And you can’t just tell the Emperor not to get back at me?”

“I cannot give him orders,” replied Vader. “He knows I would turn on him if he tried to kill you. But aside from that? If the Emperor decides to ruin your reputation, he can.”

“So, you’re not all powerful, then,” she pressed even harder.

He was beyond irritated now, she could tell. “No,” he admitted.

But then he paused for a moment, as if he was deep in thought.

“Not _yet.”_

Padmé narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Vader was already walking away from her, his cape rippling as he turned.

She didn’t chase after him, although part of her wanted to.

 

—✥—

 

The next day when Padmé walked into the Senate building, she noticed that people’s eyes seemed to follow her. This continued as she carried on through the hallway to her office—there were several politicians in the corridors, whispering and casting suspicious glances at her. She pretended not to notice; she assumed it must be because of what she said to the Emperor yesterday.

Padmé sat down at her desk, but as soon as she did, she heard a knock at her door.

“Come in,” she said.

The door opened to reveal Bail Organa, her colleague and friend of many years. He seemed very concerned, which alarmed Padmé—had something happened? Why had he come here?

He closed the door once he entered. “Padmé, may we speak for a moment?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course. Is there something wrong?”

Bail looked at her in disbelief. “Well—and please don’t take this the wrong way…”

Padmé furrowed her brow. Take what the wrong way?

“Did you… know? Did you know that the Chancellor was plotting to take over?” Bail seemed very cautious as he spoke.

Why would he even ask such a thing? Padmé wondered. _Of course_ she had no idea—Bail _knew_ that she didn’t support the Empire. So why was he questioning her? Why was he so concerned?

“No?” said Padmé, her confusion clear in her expression. “Why… why would I have known?”

She watched as a realization washed over Bail, and his eyes lit up with understanding. “You didn’t see the news, did you?” he asked her.

“No,” she answered. “What news?”

She had a bad feeling about this; there was a block of ice in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s all over the holonet,” Bail said. “Everyone is talking about it, Padmé.”

Padmé turned on the computer on her desk. A holographic screen materialized into the air; she clicked on the nearest news outlet and saw the headline that Bail must be referring to.

 _Father of Senator Amidala’s Children Revealed to be Darth Vader,_ the headline read. Padmé immediately scowled in frustration and put her hand on her forehead. She knew that it would eventually be leaked, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Padmé thought she had more time to prepare herself for the public backlash she would receive.

She let out a sigh and looked back up at Bail.

“It isn’t what it looks like,” she tried to explain. “I married him three years ago. I had no idea that this would happen.”

Bail nodded. “I believe you, but… you know how bad this looks.”

“I do,” Padmé said. “Believe me, I _want_ to fight the Empire. But I don’t know how I can when my husband is the right hand of the Emperor.”

“I believe you,” he told her, his expression now soft with compassion. “I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything, I just—I was worried that—”

Padmé waved her hand, dismissing Bail’s apology. “It’s okay,” she said. Admittedly, if Padmé learned that her friend was married to a Sith Lord, she would be concerned, too. “I understand why you were a bit suspicious.”

She clicked on the headline of the article to view the full story, even though she knew it was better not to read it.

Padmé only skimmed it, but it was enough to make her stomach churn. _The public had long been wondering who was the father of Senator Amidala’s children… Darth Vader, formerly known as Anakin Skywalker, has been confirmed to be Amidala’s husband of three years… The senator has yet to confirm this, but an inside source…_

She knew who the ‘inside source’ must be: the Emperor. This was what Vader was talking about, that Palpatine would find a way to even the score.

“I won’t treat you any differently, Padmé,” Bail told her. “You’re still my friend. I know you believe in the same ideals as I do.”

Somehow, she doubted that Bail was telling the truth. She knew that he thought he wouldn’t treat her differently, but he inevitably would. Just as everyone else would.

“Thank you,” she replied with a small smile, but it did not touch her eyes, which were cold with disappointment. “The same can’t be said for many others, though.”


	3. What Could Have Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader sees a vision and visits Padmé and the twins.

**_iii. what could have been_ **

  ** _(_** _[t h e m e](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aw-1L5IcShU)_ ** _)_**

 

> _The long night has begun._
> 
> _Huge solemn crowds line the Palace Plaza in Theed, the capital of Naboo, as six beautiful white gualaars draw a flower-draped open casket bearing the remains of a beloved Senator through the Triumphal Arch, her fingers finally and forever clasping a snippet of japor, one that had been carved long ago by the hand of a nine-year-old boy from an obscure desert planet in the far Outer Rim…_
> 
> — Matthew Stover, _Revenge of the Sith_

 

✥ ✥ ✥

 

Darth Vader visited her that night.

She was in a deep purple nightgown, sitting on the veranda sofa holding Luke and Leia when he arrived. He hadn’t announced that he was coming, but she supposed that he didn’t think it was necessary. After all, Luke and Leia were his children, too.

“Did you see?” was the first thing she said to him. Padmé looked away from her children to meet his eyes.

She didn’t need to clarify what exactly she was asking about.

“Yes,” he replied. “You’re upset.”

It was not a question. Vader stated it like a fact, but it seemed that it was information he didn’t know what to do with.

Padmé nodded and looked back down at her children, who were still nestled in her arms. She didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face.

She was ashamed of being married to Darth Vader, ashamed that despite everything he had done, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. She should. She _should_ hate him—but she can’t make herself feel that way.

Hating him would be easy. Loving him was the hard route, but it was the path she was stuck on. There were no crossroads, no choices to make—not when it came to her emotions.

“Bail Organa asked me if I knew about the Empire before everything happened,” Padmé explained. “My friends no longer trust me.”

“You can gain new supporters, new friends in the Senate,” offered Vader. But that didn’t soothe Padmé’s worries. She didn’t want to be friends with people who supported the Empire. She much preferred politicians like Bail Organa and Mon Mothma.

Padmé just shook her head. Surely, Vader knew that it wouldn’t be the same.

She decided to change the subject—she doubted that Vader shared her displeasure at their marriage being revealed.

“Why did you come here, Anakin?” she asked. Her voice was soft as she spoke, not sharp with irritation as it had been the last time she and Vader talked.

But her refusal to use his Sith name was enough to raise his guard, it seemed.

“Am I not allowed to see my own children?” said Vader coolly.

Padmé looked at him with disapproval. She had not been intending to start an argument.

“That’s not what I said. I asked you a simple question,” Padmé returned evenly.

“I’m leaving again,” he answered. “I’ll be off-world for much longer this time.”

Padmé furrowed her brow. Although she and Vader were having issues, his announcement made her feel wary. Luke and Leia had just been born and she still had her responsibilities as a Senator. She wouldn’t outright admit it, but she didn’t want Vader to go—especially because she knew what he was doing off-world.

“Right,” she sighed. Padmé couldn’t help but protest; Vader had already made things tense when they didn’t have to be and she would not hide her disgust over the Jedi Purge. “You have to hunt down your old friends.”

“I have to hunt down _traitors_ to the Empire,” Vader corrected her.

Padmé cast a glare at him, which seemed to make him realize that he had forgotten himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to argue,” he said. “I just wanted to see Luke and Leia before I go.”

There was something else, unspoken words hanging in the air, but Vader swallowed them down. Padmé kept thinking that he was going to add onto that sentence, but he didn’t.

She nodded. Although this was not how Padmé expected to raise their children, she acknowledged Vader’s right to them. Even if she wanted to keep them from him, she couldn’t.

Padmé rose from her seat and approached Vader, holding Luke and Leia in her arms. Vader took Leia from her and cradled their daughter in his arms, who was still sound asleep. But Leia seemed to sense her father, and when she did, she opened her eyes, which were deep brown like her mother’s.

Seeing Vader hold Leia gave Padmé hope; all of the harshness had been wiped away from his face. His eyes were warm, as they had been before his fall to the dark side.

Leia opened her eyes to gaze at her father. Padmé watched as Leia’s hand extended to reach for Vader’s face and couldn’t help but smile when he gave her tiny hand a light squeeze with his own. She could tell that he loved his daughter—for the first time since Mustafar, Padmé was seeing the side of her husband that she had fallen in love with.

“She’s going to look like you when she’s older,” he said, his voice hushed. Vader didn’t look at her while he spoke, as he was still gently rocking Leia. He didn’t see the smile that curved Padmé’s lips.

She wanted things to always be like this. But Padmé knew that these moments were fleeting; soon, Vader would be wreaking havoc on the lives of the innocent.

Very few words were spoken between them for several minutes. Vader returned Leia to Padmé and took Luke into his arms, who was already starting to grow a few wisps of pale blond hair.

This pure love between a father and his children only proved to Padmé that there was still good in Vader. At least for the time being—she couldn’t say for sure if darkness would eventually overcome him. And if it did, what then? Would he no longer care for her or their children?

Padmé returned Luke and Leia to their cribs after their visit with their father. She had expected Vader to be gone when she returned to the veranda, but he wasn’t.

She walked towards him curiously; there was suddenly a grave expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. In spite of her frustration over what Vader’s mission to destroy the Jedi, her love for him had not been burned away by her anger. There was something troubling him.

“You aren’t going to like what I have to say,” Vader told her.

Padmé raised an inquisitive eyebrow, ushering him to continue.

“I don’t want to leave you and the twins unattended while I’m away,” he said. “Or… in general.”

“What do you mean?” Surely, he didn’t expect them to come with him did, he?

“I’m leaving a security detail with you.”

 _“What?_ No,” Padmé shook her head. “I already have Captain Typho and—”

“They aren’t loyal to the Empire,” interjected Vader. “And now that our marriage is public knowledge, you could be in danger.”

She knew that Vader had a point. There were many people who hated the Empire, and who now may hate her by association. They could try to kill her, _and_ Luke and Leia. But still, Padmé already had security, but clearly, Vader doubted their abilities and their loyalty. Padmé knew that Typho was loyal to her, for she was the Senator of Naboo and his good friend of many years.

“I just think… it’s overkill,” she said. “You have a point, I’ll admit. But I have security already. It’s not necessary.”

“I’ve already made the arrangements,” Vader told her. He wasn’t going to budge on this, Padmé could tell. He was paranoid, though she couldn’t exactly blame him. Padmé had almost died only days ago and now they had two infants that were known to the public as the children of Darth Vader.

Padmé sighed. “And when is this being implemented?”

“Tonight,” he replied.

“Seriously?”

“They’ll arrive shortly after I leave.”

“Why are you being so paranoid?” Padmé asked. “Is it just because of the news?”

Vader exhaled hard. “I had another dream,” he admits.

She remembered all too well how his dreams often went. It had been a dream that brought this upon them. It was a dream that made Anakin go mad with fear to the extent that he sacrificed everything to save her. Only his ambitions had actually come to pass—he had literally brought her back from the brink of death. She hated to admit it, but Vader was successful in his goals. Padmé knew that his dream wasn’t a lie; she would have died. But Padmé also knew that she wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place had Anakin not turned to the dark side—he wouldn’t have had to save her.

It was his darkness that almost killed her, after all.

“About my death again?” she inquired.

“Yes,” said Vader. “But I don’t think it was the future.”

“What do you mean?” Padmé didn’t understand exactly how Force visions worked, only that Vader had them from time to time.

“I think I was being shown what could have been,” he explained. “I saw your funeral.”

“Anakin…”

“I was in Theed. The streets were crowded with people, the roads lit with candlelight. These white creatures were pulling your body in a casket.” She could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. Padmé’s heart convulsed; Anakin was still troubled by the possibility of her death. But then again, she had tried to die only days ago.

“You were wearing this dress that looked like it was made of rivers, and there were waterlilies in your hair. It was like you were drowning,” he continued. Padmé tried to catch his eyes, but they were trained on the floor.

“Anakin, please—”

He looked up at her and then looked down at the japor snippet that hung around her neck. Padmé still wore it even after everything had happened.

“Your necklace—it was in your hands. You were going to be buried with it…” It was as if his mind was in another world, still stuck in the dream he had.

Her worry for him was beginning to spiral. All of the irritation that she felt before dissipated and she, for a moment, forgot about the security detail, forgot about Mustafar, forgot about all of their quarrels.

Padmé reached for his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. Her gesture was by no means an invitation, nor did it mean that their problems were resolved. But it was meant to comfort him, to steer his thoughts away from his nightmare and back to the present.

But when Vader did snap out of his almost trance-like state, he pulled away from her, breaking their hands apart. She wondered why he had done that, but didn’t want to change the subject. Padmé tried not to feel like he had just rejected her—it wasn’t going to lead into anything more, anyway.

Still, her heart sank.

“If you could choose life or death,” he said, his eyes on the darkened skyline of the city, “would you choose to die?”

Padmé sighed—was he replaying those moments in the hospital in his head? Of her pleading for death, reprimanding him when he had saved her?

“I wouldn’t choose to die,” she said truthfully.

His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled.

If she could choose again, she wouldn’t pick death. Now that Padmé had lived, she could not abandon Luke and Leia. But still, part of her believed that it was her destiny to die, that Vader should not have interfered. Her dread and despair were not fleeting; they were still there, closing in on her heart more and more.

“But I don’t think that death is something you should try to control,” Padmé added.

“Why not?” said Vader. “You tried to control it, too. You tried to take your own life away.”

“It isn’t the same.”

Vader turned to face her. His features were soft but there was bitterness in his eyes. “Isn’t it?”

“What you did was unnatural,” she tried to argue, even though she knew that she wouldn’t get through to him.

“The Force isn’t unnatural,” Vader countered.

“Was it worth it, Anakin?” asked Padmé, crossing her arms. She wasn’t angry; she wasn’t burning with frustration. Instead, she just felt cold. “Everything you did? Just to save _me_?”

He looked at her like she was crazy. She imagined that he was thinking, _Of course it was worth it. How could you think otherwise?_

“Yes,” he answered simply, like all the lives he took meant nothing.

Padmé couldn’t believe that one person was more important than millions—thousands, even. She knew that every day, every single second, people were dying because they were fighting the Empire. And it was _Vader’s_ fault. He had done this—but she also felt that she was partly to blame. It was Padmé who drove Anakin to this, and although his fall to the dark side had become more about power than saving her, she still felt guilty. She unknowingly gave him the push he needed to turn.

Vader held her gaze for a moment and everything went still. The distant sounds of speeders faded, as did the beat of Padmé’s heart.

He then said something so vile that Padmé wanted to turn heel and storm away.

“And I’d do it all again.”

But Padmé didn’t have to walk away. It was Vader who left, off to his mission to destroy the last of the Jedi.

The message was very clear: he did not regret what he had done.


End file.
